


Catra's Rainbow Claw Caps

by jpnadia



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Marking, Minor Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpnadia/pseuds/jpnadia
Summary: It's anaccident.(When Catra's claws come out during sex, she adds another set of scars to Adora's back. She takes some steps to make sure that never happens again.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 491





	Catra's Rainbow Claw Caps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vandalwithoutacause](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandalwithoutacause/gifts).



> With thanks to vandalwithoutacause for the inspiration and the beta.
> 
> Written on fast-forward in about three hours; all mistakes are my own.

It’s an  _ accident _ when it happens. They’re in bed together, late at night, tangled together with Adora half on top of her. It’s just kissing, which is why Catra forgets to be careful, why when Adora’s thigh hits her just right, she rakes her hand across Adora’s back. It’s an  _ accident _ .

Adora’s eyes go dark and her breath hitches, and normally that means Catra would do it  _ again _ to see what happens, but then Adora’s hand slips between them and Catra gets distracted for a little while. Small blessing.

She doesn’t realize that Adora is bleeding until Adora rolls off of her onto her back, winces, and flips onto her front. There are four long gashes running from Adora’s shoulder blade to the bottom of her rib cage, overlaid over the white mesh of scars, the remnants all the times they’d fought. Catra loves Adora’s back, loves the warmth and planes of it, but she hates looking at it, because of all the reminders of what she did.

“It’s fine,” says Adora, because of  _ course _ she does. 

“You always say that.” Catra glares and then levers herself out of bed to get the first aid kit. 

“That stings.” 

Catra scowls, disinfectant and a towel stained pink in hand. “I already said I was sorry.”

Once Catra has cleaned and bandaged the cuts to her satisfaction, Adora pulls her in for another kiss, slings an arm heavy over Catra’s waist, and falls asleep.

It takes Catra a long time to join her.

* * *

The thick wooden door is wreathed in flowers, bright and beautiful. Catra would rather be dealing with the forbidding metal doors in the Fright Zone, but no one lives there anymore, and as much as she hates to admit it, she needs help. She steels herself and knocks. This is for Adora.

Scorpia opens it and smiles like Catra didn’t spend months stomping over her feelings. “Catra!” She sweeps Catra off her feet and into a hug.

“Hey,” says Catra, once she wriggles free. “Is Perfuma around? I need her help.”

“Sure. Perfuma!” Scorpia calls out, even though the cottage isn’t exactly huge. To Catra, in a more normal tone, she says, “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”

Catra’s insides squirm while she waits, because when Scorpia puts it like that, she immediately doubts her welcome. But no, Scorpia’s being entirely sincere, because a few minutes later, Perfuma emerges and wraps her in another horrifying hug. "How can I help?" she asks.  


“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Catra begins, pointedly.

“Aw, you don’t need to be embarrassed around us, buddy!” 

“Would you please just leave?” Catra snaps, and then catches herself. She’s hurt Scorpia enough. She’s hurt everyone enough. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. Stay. I’m sure you’ve both dealt with this kind of thing.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Perfuma.

Catra’s nostrils flare. “It was an  _ accident _ .” She extends her claws. “I don’t want to ever hurt Adora again. And I thought you might know how to--” She cuts herself off and gestures at Scorpia’s pincers. “Compensate.”

Scorpia and Perfuma exchange the kind of intimate look that makes Catra want to incinerate herself on the spot. Finally, Perfuma says, “It’s not like--”

“We don’t really--”

“But I’m sure we can help!” Perfuma adds brightly. “With mediation, you can--”

“I was thinking more, like, claw caps?” Catra puts in hurriedly. The last time she’d given in and tried to meditate with Perfuma, she’d fallen asleep, and Perfuma had tried to hide how much that bothered her. It’s all part of her new  _ not hurting people _ thing. “You have all the princess magic for making stuff. Flowers. Whatever.”

Scorpia and Perfuma exchange another intimate look. 

The silence curdles in Catra’s stomach. “Look, if you can’t help, I’ll figure it out on my own.”

“No, we can help!” says Perfuma. “But I want to talk to Netossa.”

Catra casts her eyes at the ceiling. The last thing she wants is to involve  _ more people _ in her private life. But this is for Adora. “Fine,” she says.

* * *

A few weeks later, between Netossa and Perfuma, she has them, sparkling red, orange, yellow, green, and blue in a row when she extends her claws. More glitter than she likes, but then again, Adora likes that shit. It’s fine.

More importantly, they’re blunt: she tests them extensively on her arms and her thighs, crouched on a tree branch in the Whispering Woods, trying as hard as she can to break her own skin. She doesn’t even make a dent. They’re ready.

* * *

“Heeeeey, Adora.” Catra leans against a pillar in Bright Moon and unfurls her fingers in front of her face, capped claws retracted. It’s going to be a surprise. A good one, Catra hopes.

She saves this for special occasions, because every time she does it, Adora shudders all the way down her spine, and she turns to Catra. It’s the most gratifying shit Catra has ever seen. She never wants it to lose its effect.

“Hey, Catra.” Adora stops mid-sword drill. There’s no war anymore. She doesn’t need to practice, but it’s habit. Soothing. Catra gets that. But she’s got a better use for Adora’s time.

“You busy?”

“Not anymore.” Adora’s voice has already gone breathy. Oh yeah. This is going to be  _ so worth it _ .

Catra extends her hand, and Adora takes it. Lets her lead her to their bedroom, lets her press her up against the wall and kiss her as she undoes Adora’s jacket.

When Catra pulls back to let her breathe, Adora has actual literal stars in her eyes. “Is there an occasion?” she asks.

“Not exactly,” says Catra. Her claws itch. “I got you something.”

Adora finishes stripping like they’re back in the Horde locker room. She still has scars on her back, but it’s time for Catra to stop running and face up to what she's done. She strips with just as much efficiency and leads Adora over to their bed.  


Once they're settled, Adora sprawled out prone in front of her, Catra fits her fingers over the paths of the scars. Some of them are too small, uncomfortable for her adult hands. She starts with them, light pressure. The scabs from her accident have healed, and the new scars stand out. Whatever the past was, she’s going to give Adora better now. 

She takes her time, doing her best to go from oldest to newest, increasing the pressure as she goes. There are so  _ many _ . By the time she works her way up to medium pressure, Adora is moving under her. Little jerks of her hips into the mattress, nothing that Catra can’t handle. Ha. Adora’s so transparent when she’s aroused.

“Was it like this? Every time we fought?” Catra whispers into Adora’s ear. 

Adora writhes under her and doesn’t answer. Catra pauses. Grins as Adora muffles a little sob in the pillow. “It  _ was _ . The mighty She-Ra getting all hot and bothered during a fight.”

“If you’re just going to talk,” Adora makes a move like she’s going to roll over and retaliate. 

“Nuh-uh.” Catra puts the heel of her palm at the base of Adora’s neck, shoulder level, and presses down. She likes it when her girlfriend is all needy and nonverbal. Adora shudders again and goes still. “It’s my turn.” She thinks she’s covered all the scars from their fights. She presses her capped claws into Adora’s back, hard, and drags them along the most recent scar. The one that crosses all the others, the one she’d never meant to make, the one that somehow has remade all the others.

All that scarred skin, reclaimed and yet unbroken. Adora a whimpering puddle under her. Yeah, Catra’s a little smug. This has been the best idea ever. She digs her capped claws in between Adora’s shoulder blades and relishes the hiss this draws forth. With her other hand, she reaches in between Adora’s legs and finds her a drenched mess. 

It’s one thing to know that Adora’s a mess, and it’s another thing entirely to rub slick fingers against Adora’s blazingly hot skin. Suddenly, desperately, Catra needs a better angle. 

She rolls Adora over onto her front, kneeling across one of Adora’s thighs as Adora’s splayed out beneath her like a sacrifice. There aren’t any scars here, just unmarred chest, belly, breasts. Catra scrapes her capped claws down the line of Adora’s breastbone and gets to watch as Adora’s eyes lose their focus. Her chin tips back in surrender.

This is everything Catra wants, everything Catra has  _ ever _ wanted. She takes it, holds on with both hands, and fucks Adora until  Adora falls apart hard, grinding against her palm, with the tips of Catra’s claws pricking into the soft skin of one of her breasts, and does not yield until Adora’s eyes flutter open. She finishes herself, up against Adora’s thigh, almost as an afterthought. 

“C’mere,” says Adora, holding out an arm. Catra snuggles in, tucking her head onto Adora’s shoulder. There are faint pink lines that mark the path of her claws, but no blood. For once in her life, she’s done no harm. There’s a low rumbling sound coming from somewhere, and it takes Catra a few minutes to realize that she’s purring. Oh well. It’s not ideal, but Adora’s heard it before.

Catra’s too self-satisfied to mind anything much. “Was that okay?” she asks. It’s cheating; she already knows the answer. Catra would rather win than play fair.

Adora laughs, a watery little sound that makes Catra want to do it all over again. “Very okay. How’d you do it?”

“I got Perfuma to make me these.” Catra extends her claws and moves her hand so Adora doesn’t have to move. They’re both so comfortable, and Catra doesn't want to lose this moment to show off the glittery rainbow that's so different from the usual black of her claws.

“You asked for help?” Adora’s got this little smile, and Catra wants to bite it almost more than she doesn’t want to move. Almost. “I’m proud of you.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Catra says, loud over the purring. Maybe they’re both getting better. Maybe she can learn-- maybe they can both learn, now that they’re together.

She can’t promise that she’ll never hurt Adora again. But she can swear on her life that she will always make up for it.


End file.
